2016 INDEX

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

We are adapting, I think, are you?


April 8, 2020 – We are adapting, I think, are you?

Some random thoughts:

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         I had to give it up! I had to change cat food brands because my brand was not available – for days now and I needed supplies.

         I wonder how the cats will feel about the change in their cuisine.  Should I stand on the back steps and explain the situation in a press conference for the cats indicating there is a hiccup in the supply chain and they won’t be getting their “seafood sensations” – they will have to rough it and eat what Morris the Cat eats?

         In my mind I am rehearsing, “Meow, Meow, everyone here: Boston Blackie, Mayflower Madame, Aqua Eyes, Swirl one, Swirl two, Golden Eyes, Orange Tom, and you, Gate-crasher, no you are not slipping into the house as I step out onto the steps."

         Will they understand we are practicing tough love: They will eat it when they get hungry enough.  The cats are all a bunch of moochers, they shouldn’t mind, but somehow I still mind – a bit.

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         We are having our roof repaired. The job went under contract three weeks ago, and the roofing company finished their prior job and a half a dozen men rolled into the yard this morning in their various trucks, attired in work belts, clunky work boots, and some with bandanas holding back long locks on burley men. 

         The fella with the longest locks called out, “You got a nice driveway going there.”

         “Thanks, not bad for a one-woman show, huh?”

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         My second excitement of the day was the first glimpse of a “flash bulb” – what we call the American Goldfinch – they fly through this way as they migrate. 

         A couple weeks ago when I was buying birdseed in advance, I picked up a bag of Niger seed for them in anticipation.  Now, I can’t find my goldfinch birdfeeder.  I hunted in both sheds and assume I must have tossed it out when it fell and possibly broke last season, I don’t remember. Oh Well, not to worry, I ordered one to be delivered.

         With more time on my hands, I do marathon sessions in the gardens.  Weeding most of the day yesterday, I rested today.  I’ll go back at it tomorrow morning.  Meanwhile when it comes to the mail, I devour my catalogs and my magazines and toss them in the recycling bag.

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         This morning I had the privilege – yes, I call it the privilege to gather the trash in the house, pull the red trash bag handles tight, tie them, and toss them into the trunk of my car.  I drove north on Hudlow Road and then North on HWY 64 to the “convenience center” alias trash dump containers. 

         What a gorgeous day, blue sky, the leaves coming on the various trees in various shades of green.  I love to see the twenty or more shades of green as the foliage is trying to develop.  White dogwoods, pink dogwoods in bloom some just fading, some just coming into their prime.  And, my husband is missing all these spring nuisances, as he is older and in a much more precarious health situation than I am.  I had the windows in my car all open, the music cranked up.  It reminded me of when I got my first car, in spring time when I took a different route home from work just to enjoy Mother Nature putting on Spring and enjoy my first new car under the guidance of my hands on the wheel.

         You never forget that first taste of “freedom” – your own car, going where you want to go when you want to go . . . sort of a Déjá vu thing.

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         I like catalogs in my hand, so that I can fold the page down, peruse, and think about it.  If you don’t get the printed version of a catalog, you are often missing out.  Perfect example is The Vermont Country Store, Spring has Sprung, Volume 74, No. 14 edition.  Inside the front cover is a letter from our family. [The Orton’s]  It is titled:  The Mother of All Love.

         An excerpt from discussing Mother Nature:

         “. . . with southerly winds and longer sun-filled days.  Her warmth radiates everywhere, thawing the soil and giving rise to tiny green leaves.  Before long, the mountains are painted bright green – almost chartreuse – top to bottom and filled with the songs of chirping birds.”

         It is a lovely tribute to Mother Nature as well as Mother’s Day.

         Like my Mom used to do, I read those messages from the company families that have been in business for years – in this case since 1946 – the purveyors of the practical and hard-to-find.

         Life has come to a slowness – as the not-so-distant past, and we are starting to enjoy the quiet and grace of it.  I hope that you, too, will take notice and enjoy the quiet moments before it becomes lost again.

        

        

        

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